


The Ghost and Doctor Venkman

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-20
Updated: 2005-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:12:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has a ghostly encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost and Doctor Venkman

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Therienne

 

 

Janine Melnitz was not having a good day. She'd woken up late, arrived at work to find that her desk had been visited by a floating green slimeball, she'd broken two nails using her piece-of-crap computer, and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Egon all day. Now she was on all fours under her desk, no doubt getting a run in her last pair of nylons, reaching for the pen she'd just dropped, grumbling angrily to herself.

Which was probably why she missed the voice the first few times it spoke to her. When the exasperated, "Excuse me, miss?" penetrated her annoyed fog, she stiffened in surprise, smacking the top of her head on the bottom of her desk.

Biting back a curse, she scrambled back up to her feet, flustered but trying to salvage the situation by greeting the newcomer with a professional smile. A smile which faded quickly when she got a look at the man.

"Oh, for the love of..." she said, irritated. "Good one, Doctor V. Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

The man frowned. "I beg your pardon?" he asked coldly.

With a roll of her eyes she dropped into her seat. "Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"I don't know who you think you're talking to, but I--"

"Janine?" someone called from the stairs. "Is there a problem here?"

Janine's jaw dropped as Peter and Ray approached her desk. Helplessly, she looked back at the stranger who, upon closer inspection, still looked a great deal like Peter Venkman, only a whole lot angrier.

"Erg," Janine said weakly, color rising to her cheeks.

With a last glower at her, the man turned to the two Ghostbusters. "Does one of _you_ know what the hell he's doing?"

Ray blinked at the man's tone but Peter, the consummate professional, merely ushered the man into his office with a strained smile. As Ray followed them past Janine's desk, he gave her a sympathetic smile.

With a mental groan, Janine let her head fall to her desk. Really, she thought bitterly, some days it just wasn't worth getting out of bed.

O-O-O-O-O-O

"Now, let me get this straight, Mr. ..." Peter paused expectantly.

"Hoskins," the man said. "James Hoskins."

"Right. Mr. Hoskins, you say your house is haunted?"

Hoskins grimaced at the word. "Yes. As I said, this... creature... appeared in my home a week ago and it won't leave me alone."

"What does it look like?" Ray asked eagerly.

"I looks like a ghost," Hoskins snapped. "Beyond that, I can't really tell you. I've been too busy escaping its clutches to get a good look at it."

"It attacked you?" Ray asked in concern.

"Whenever it sees me, it comes straight at me. I'd call that attacking me!"

Ray started to reply but, seeing their client's annoyance, Peter quickly stepped in. "Sounds like a problem, all right. Tell you what: leave us your address and we'll get to you as soon as we can."

"What do you mean?" the man asked in outrage. "I'm being harassed by a ghost. You're the Ghostbusters. I demand that you take care of it immediately!"

"Our two other team members are away right now," Ray explained patiently.

"And I suppose one ghost is too much for the two of you?"

Peter unclenched his jaw. Sure, he and Ray could probably handle this on their own, but it would take Egon and Winston to keep Peter from blasting their _client_ as well. Arrogant prick.

"We work as a team," he said.

Hopkins snorted. "Well, how soon do you think your _team_ can pull itself together?"

"We'll be there first thing tomorrow, sir," Ray said earnestly. "I promise."

"I guess that'll have to do," the man said and, without further comment, tossed a business card down on Peter's desk and strode out of the office.

"Charming man," Peter muttered when their client was out of earshot.

"Come on, Pete," Ray said. "I'd be snarky, too, if a ghost suddenly started haunting my house."

"Ray," said Peter with a fond smile. "You couldn't be snarky if Gozer himself lived in your fridge."

Just then Janine poked her head around the partition to the office. "Is he gone?"

"Yup," Peter told her. "The coast is clear. Now would you mind telling me what happened out there?"

Janine blushed again. "I'm sorry, Doctor V. But he looked just like you and I thought...."

"She's right," Ray piped up. "He did look an awful lot like you, Peter."

"Ah, that explains it, then," Peter said with a wise nod. "You were dazzled by his incredible good looks."

"Right, that must be it," Janine said dryly. But she did feel a bit better.

O-O-O-O-O-O

"Wow," said Ray. "Look at this place!"

Peter looked. He understood Ray's enthusiasm; the house was large, and ornate and Victorian and all those other words that meant showy and expensive. It looked like a stereotypical haunted house; in fact, Peter was surprised that a house like this hadn't already been haunted for years.

As promised, the Ghostbusters were there bright and early. Peter half-expected their client to make a fuss about the early hour--in fact, waking the guy up would have almost made up for the fact that Peter'd had to get out of bed way before he'd wanted to--but the man was already at the door waiting for them impatiently.

As the men got their gear out of Ecto, Egon gave the house a quick scan with his PKE meter. "I'm registering some activity," he said. "Probably class two or three."

"Good," said Winston. "I'm looking forward to an easy bust, for once."

"Don't say things like that," Peter warned. "You tempt fate like that, and the next thing you know we'll have demons crawling out of the woodwork."

"Do you really think so?" asked Ray eagerly, and Winston laughed.

"The readings indicate that the house is demon-free," said Egon mildly.

"Hey," called their client. "Are you guys going to actually do something, or just stand around?"

As the Ghostbusters finished gearing up, Peter mumbled, "If we _do_ come across a demon, let's feed this guy to it."

Hoskins motioned them into the house. "It's upstairs," he said without preamble. "I usually see it in or around the master bedroom."

Ray nodded. "Right. You leave this to us--we'll take care of it."

The man looked unconvinced, but stepped aside. Ray led the rest of the team up the stairs. The hallway was quiet, but Egon's PKE meter was still whirring.

"It's somewhere nearby," he said, his eyes fixed on the display.

Peter was about to suggest splitting up when a blood curdling screech sounded from somewhere behind him. "I hate it when they do that," he grumbled as he hit the floor. The other Ghostbusters followed suit, rolling and drawing their throwers with practiced ease.

The ghost was hovering at the other end of the hallway. It seemed okay, as far as ghosts went; no sharp claws or fangs in sight. In fact, it seemed human-like, male, fairly young, with pale blonde hair and sad eyes.

"Gosh," whispered Ray. "He doesn't seem so bad."

As if to prove Ray wrong the ghost shot towards them and the four men ducked down again. Instead of attacking, though, the ghost stopped short, hovering in front of Peter.

Peter blinked up at the specter. "Um, hello?"

The ghost, staring at Peter, reached a hand towards him. His mouth opened but he made no sound. His intent was clear, though.

"It looks like he's saying 'please'," said Winston softly.

"Please what?" Peter asked. "What do you want me to do?"

But the ghost didn't elaborate. Instead he turned and glided sadly back down the hall, disappearing through a door to what was undoubtedly the master bedroom.

The Ghostbusters got to their feet and looked at each other in confusion.

"Well?" their client called up the stairs. "Did you get it?"

"We're working on it," Peter called back. He turned back to the others. "So, what are we working on?"

Egon adjusted his glasses. "Obviously, we're dealing with a ghost that was once a living person."

"That's right," added Ray. "He's got unfinished business, here; he wants us to help him with whatever that is."

"Right," said Peter with a sigh. "Which means this is my department."

Squaring his shoulders, he headed for the bedroom. At the door, he turned back. "If I'm not back in ten minutes..."

"We'll go in and rescue you," Winston assured him.

The room was immaculate. There were a couple of chests of drawers, an armchair, and a large bed. The ghost was at the far end of the room, looking at Peter. There was something familiar about the figure--something about the ghost's eyes, or the way his light-colored hair fell across his forehead.

"We're here to help you," Peter said softly.

The ghost didn't move, staring at him pointedly. Peter rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, removing his proton pack and placing it on the floor, but still within reach if he needed it quickly. "Here. Now, what would you like us to do for you?"

The ghost slowly approached him. Once again he reached out a hand, and Peter felt a soft, cold touch along his cheek. Very softly, very slowly, the ghost spoke and, very carefully, Peter listened.

O-O-O-O-O-O

"Guys, we have a problem."

Peter had been gone for just a little over the ten-minute mark and the rest of the Ghostbusters were starting to worry. Peter's words as he came out of the room--alone--did little to reassure them.

"What does he want?" Ray asked.

"Come on," said Peter. "We'll talk about it downstairs."

Their client met them as they reached the main floor. "Well?"

"I had a talk with your ghost," Peter began.

"A talk?" Hoskins exclaimed. "I'm not paying you to chat with the thing. I want it gone!"

"Mr. Hoskins," Ray explained, "In cases like these, if we help the ghost with whatever unfinished business it has, it can usually dissipate on its own."

"What sort of unfinished business?" Hoskins asked doubtfully.

"As I was about to say," said Peter loudly, "I got him to tell me what he wanted. It seems a friend of his used to live here."

Hoskins frowned. "The only person who lived here was my uncle; I inherited this place from him a few months ago."

"Did you look like him?"

"A little," Hoskins admitted. "At least, people said they could see a resemblance. Why?"

"The ghost's unfinished business was with this friend of his. Something he had to say to him before he died. Since you look like your uncle, I guess he got you two confused."

"Gee, maybe that's why he went to you, Peter," said Ray. "You look like him, too."

Peter and their client looked at each other with distaste, but there was no denying the resemblance.

"So all I have to do is talk to the thing, and it'll leave?"

"Well, not quite," Peter admitted. "This is where the tough part comes in. See, he wants one of us to, well, let him take over us for a few minutes, so he can talk 'in person'. So to speak."

The others stared at him.

"Are you out of your mind?" Hoskins asked.

"No more than usual," Peter said mildly.

"Well, you can count me out of this insanity! This ghost is trespassing on my property; I want him to leave, not tell me about his stupid problems!"

Peter shrugged. "I didn't think you'd be up for it," he said. "The ghost says I'll do, since I look like his friend, too. The trouble is the second part of the plan."

"Yeah. One of us willingly being possessed," said Winston with a shudder. "I don't like the sound of that."

"But we don't want to bust him if we don't have to," protested Ray. "If it's only for a few minutes..."

"That's what the ghost says now," said Winston. "What if he likes it so much he decides to stay?"

"We've already dealt with that sort of situation," said Egon. "It's dangerous, but not extraordinarily so. I think we should go along with it."

Hoskins stared at him. "You'd actually let the ghost do this to you?"

Egon nodded. "It would be a fascinating experience."

Hoskins looked disgusted. "You're all crazy," he said, turning away.

As their client retreated, Peter reached for his thrower. "Just one little burst of protons..."

"Come on," said Winston with a grin, grabbing Peter by the shoulder and steering him towards the stairs. "Use your energy where it's needed."

"You never let me have any fun," Peter grumbled. He was feeling more than a little nervous about this. Talking to the ghost was one thing, but he was going to have to watch out for Egon, too. He hadn't sensed any duplicity in the ghost, and he was usually a good judge of character, but you never knew when this sort of situation was going to go sour.

Soon he and Egon were standing by the bedroom door.

"You sure about this, big guy?" Peter asked in concern.

Egon gave him a reassuring smile. "Of course, Peter. I trust your instincts."

Great, thought Peter. If only he had the same confidence in himself.

Steeling himself once again, he opened the bedroom door and led Egon inside.

O-O-O-O-O-O

This time it took considerably more than ten minutes. Ray had been monitoring the room with his PKE meter and hadn't noticed any abnormal signs, and things had been very quiet on the other side of the closed door, but he and Winston were still on edge.

"I wish I knew what was going on," said Winston. "We should have gone in there with them."

"The ghost wanted to be alone," said Ray. "Besides, what could go wrong?"

Before Winston could answer the door opened and the other two Ghostbusters walked out of the bedroom. "Problem solved," Peter said shortly.

"Are you okay?" Ray asked in concern. He ran his meter over Egon but picked up only slight residual readings. "What was it like?"

"I have no idea," said Egon, disappointment evident in his eyes. "I don't remember any of it."

They looked at Peter, who shrugged. "Standard stuff. The ghost took over Egon, got some personal stuff off his chest, and then disappeared. I'll go give the good news to our client."

He took off towards the stairs, and something in his voice told the others to leave him alone for the time being.

"You don't remember anything?" Winston asked.

"No," said Egon, staring after Peter. "But I really I wish I did."

They found Peter by the front door. Not surprising, he was arguing with Hoskins.

"I hired you to bust a ghost," the man was protesting. "The ghost went away on its own, no busting required."

Ray, Winston and Egon shared a look and hurried to stave off the fireworks that were sure to come. To their surprise, though, Peter just shook his head in resignation. "Fine," he said. "You're right. We really didn't do much; this one's on the house." With that, he pushed the door open and stormed off towards Ecto.

The others stared after him. "Are you sure he's not the one who got possessed?" Winston asked.

But Egon seemed to have no explanation for Peter's behavior.

O-O-O-O-O-O

Peter was silent on the drive back to the fire house. He was silent at lunch, and businesslike at the bust they went on that afternoon--a quick-witted class four that led them on a merry chase through Chinatown. Then he was silent throughout their meal of Chinese food donated by a grateful restaurant owner, and silently headed off to bed shortly after the dishes had been cleared away (and licked clean by Slimer).

Egon was about to head up after him but Winston stopped him with a shake of his head. "Let him sleep it off," he said. "You know what Peter's like when he clams up like this; nobody and nothing can make him talk. If he's still upset tomorrow, we'll sick Slimer on him until he confesses."

But the following day Peter was back to his normal sardonic self. Apparently Winston had been right--a good night sleep was all he'd needed.

Something about his friend's behavior was bothering Egon, though. He seemed too bright-eyed, too ready with a wise crack. And he refused to talk about what had happened back at Hoskin's house, citing patient-doctor confidentiality as his reason. Egon had even surreptitiously scanned Peter with the PKE meter but found no trace of any paranormal activity. And try as he might, he still couldn't remember a thing from the time the ghost had entered him to the moment he'd felt it dissipate away.

He had no basis for his suspicions, though, and so he resolved to simply keep an eye on Peter and wait for whatever was bothering him to come to a head.

He didn't have to wait long. A few days later they were called out on a difficult and dangerous bust in a high-rise. The ghost they were after not only breathed jets of flame, but was armed with wicked, sharp fangs and talons which they'd had to dodge frequently. They'd split up, and Egon had, of course, found himself cornered beside Peter with an advancing ghost ahead of them and an open elevator shaft behind them.

"Why do these things always happen to us?" Peter asked as they dodged bursts of flame between shots from their proton rifles.

"Really, Peter, the statistical probabilities are--"

"Shut up and duck," shouted Peter, and Egon found himself on his back with a heavy load of Venkman on top of him. He stared up into wide green eyes; Peter was still for a long moment, then threw himself off Egon with a curse. Egon was alarmed to see a flash of fear in Peter's face, directed not at the ghost, but at Egon himself.

Then the ghost charged again, but Ray and Winston came careening around the corner, throwers in hand, and between the four of them they made quick work of the ghost.

On the ride home Egon tried to catch Peter's eye but the other man ignored him handily, engaging in light banter with Ray. This time, when Peter disappeared upstairs Egon followed, intent on finding out what was going on with his friend, and what had put that fear in his eyes. Before leaving, though, he looked over at Winston, who nodded and suggested to Ray that they go pick up supper somewhere.

Egon tracked Peter to the bunkroom and closed the door firmly behind him.

"Leave it alone," Peter cautioned, his back to Egon.

"I can't, Peter," said Egon. "Please, tell me what happened tonight."

"Nothing happened," Peter hedged. "We got the ghost before it could get us. End of story."

"You know that's not what I mean," said Egon firmly, and Peter's shoulders slumped.

"Please let it go, Egon," he said softly. If it had been anyone but his best friend, Egon might have obeyed.

"I can't, Peter. I have to know why you're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you," said Peter. "Never of you. It's just that.... It's complicated, that's all."

"What did the ghost say to you?" Egon asked. "When it possessed me." A horrible thought struck him. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No!" Peter whirled to face him. "No, you didn't. You'd never hurt me! It wasn't you, anyway. I could see that."

"Peter...." Egon reached out to place a hand on Peter's shoulder, but the other man stepped away, sitting heavily on the edge of his bed instead.

"The ghost and his friend were.... Let's just say they were more than just friends."

"Oh." Then Egon's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "Oh!" Then he had another horrible thought. "My God, Peter, I didn't--"

"What? Debauch poor innocent Doctor Venkman?" Peter laughed softly. "No, Egon. Don't worry; my honor is still safe."

"Well, then, what did happen?"

Peter looked away. Egon walked over to the bed and sat next to him. "You know me, Peter; I'm not going to let this go when it's obviously causing you pain. Please tell me what I did when the ghost possessed me."

"You didn't do anything, Egon. That's part of the problem."

Egon frowned. "I don't understand."

Peter turned to him again, his eyes flashing furiously. "You want the truth? You want to know what's bothering me? Well fine, then. I'll tell you. This person wearing your body, looking at me with your eyes, speaking to me with your voice, told me he loved me, and held me in your arms and kissed me with your lips. It was sweet and gentle and perfect and everything I've ever fucking wanted, and it wasn't real. It wasn't...." Peter's voice broke, but he kept his eyes on Egon's. "It wasn't really you."

Egon stared at Peter, speechless. He felt as if he'd been struck by a heavy object, or taken a proton blast between the eyes. "Peter," he managed to say at last. "Peter, I'm sorry."

"Yeah," said Peter bitterly. "Well, that's okay. I told you it wasn't your fault."

"No," said Egon. "I mean, I'm sorry I missed it all."

It was Peter's turn to stare. "What?"

"If anyone gets to hold you with my arms, it should darned well be me."

"Egon?"

But Egon was matching his actions to his words, placing his arms around Peter and drawing him close.

"Egon, what?"

"And if anyone gets to kiss you with my lips, it should be me." Egon saw Peter's eyes widened as he brought their lips together. It was a brief kiss, but it was sweet and gentle and perfect.

"Egon," Peter whispered when they parted. This time it wasn't a question, but a plea.

"And if anyone gets to tell you that they love you...."

"God, Egon," Peter said harshly and pulled Egon in again. This time the kiss was hard, passionate, and left them both breathless and scrambling to remove each other's clothes as quickly as possible. They lay intertwined, skin on skin, kissing and touching and moving deliciously against each other. It was a little awkward, and both men had been wanting this for too long to make it last, but for Peter and Egon it was perfect.

Later, when Peter's eyes had uncrossed and he'd managed to untangle his fingers from Egon's hair, he had a sudden thought. "The guys?"

"Went to get pizza," said Egon sleepily. "They should be back soon." Then he frowned at the clock. "Actually, they should have been back a while ago."

"Think they'll notice?"

"That we're sharing a bed? Undoubtedly."

"Think they'll mind?"

"That we love each other? I highly doubt it. Though we might have to restructure the sleeping arrangements."

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea."

There was another long pause.

"Hey, Egon?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"I love you, too."

 

 

 


End file.
